Mello, I Hope It Gives You Hell
by anotherNear
Summary: All Matt wants is his best friend, his crying shoulder back. But when he and Mello meet for the first time in years, how will they react to each other? Does Matt even want him back? Prequel to "Home"


_**Disclaimer : **__Don't own anything but my insanity and this story. Characters © Ohba and Obata, and song © The All-American Rejects._

_I wake up every evening_

_With a big smile on my face_

_And it never feels out of place_

Matt yawned, closing his eyes as he splashed cool water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror above the sink, smiling at his reflection. All he had really needed was a good sleep. Really.

Matt had been an insomniac since _he _had left, crying at the slightest mention of _his _name. But know, he knew that it was time to move on. He snarled at is reflection, and the fourteen-year-old let out a soft chuckle as he pulled his shirt on.

_And you're still probably workin'_

_At a nine to five pace_

_An' I wonder how bad that tastes_

_When you see my face…_

Would he be crawling back to Mello anytime soon? No. There was no way in hell. Would he ever take Mello back? Fuck no. (But of course he would, he would always forgive his best friend.)

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell._

_When you walk my way…_

He called three weeks after he left. Matt glanced down at his cell-phone, a gift from Roger for his fourteenth birthday. The number was unknown, so Matt picked up without saying anything.

After a few moment, a familiar voice broke the silence. "Matt? Are you there? Oh, Matt I'm so so-"

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell._

_Now where's your picket fence, love?_

_And where's that shiny car?_

_And did it ever get you far?_

Matt snapped his phone shut and hurled it across the room. Tears stung his eyes as the phone hit his closet door and the battery popped out.

"That bitch…" Matt growled against his hands.

"Matt…"

The redhead looked up, startled, and saw the smaller white-haired boy leaning against the doorframe.

"Are you still angry at Mello?"

"No, I hope he's effing happy where ever the hell he is. Now, get out, Near."

The white-haired boy nodded and padded away, shutting Matt's door behind him. Matt let out a sigh and flopped back on his bed.

_And you've never seemed so dense, love_

_And I've never seen you fall so hard_

_Do you know where you are?_

_An' truth be told, I miss you…_

"Roger, I'm going to LA." Two years after _he _had left.

The elderly man sighed, but nodded slowly. "That's where Mello is then?" He asked, looking up at the slightly surprised adolescent in front of him.

"Well… I… I think so. But…" Matt glanced down at his feet.

"Matt, I won't stop you. Make sure you take enough money for and apartment, and whatever else you might need."

Matt blinked. Roger, whom he had always hated… Why was he helping him now? "Th…Thank you, Roger." He stuttered, turning to walk out of Roger's office.

"And Matt?"

"Huh?"

"If you find Mello, please take care of him. And keep yourself safe."

_And truth be told, I'm lyin'_

_When you see my face,_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell…_

Five months he's been in LA, and other than getting a job and finding an apartment, the sixteen-year-old hadn't done much. Work, come home, eat, play videogames, sleep; That was basically his schedule. And, somewhere along the way, he'd picked up the habit of smoking.

Matt wasn't sure if he wanted to find Mello anymore. He was getting along fine without him, but sometimes he missed having another warm body to curl up next to when he'd had a shitty day.

The teen sighed and lit another cigarette as his cell-phone vibrated in his pocket. He's been getting calls every night from an unknown caller for the past couple weeks.

He knew very well who they were from, and he never answered.

_When you walk my way_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell._

_If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well_

_Then he's a fool, you're just as well_

_Hope it gives you hell._

_I hope it gives you hell…_

A month of these "anonymous" calls finally began to grate on his nerves. Taking a long drag on his Camel, he flicked his phone open, and yet again answered without saying anything.

"Matt?" A synthed voice, but he knew who it was.

"Stop calling me, you bitch. You've already told me that you don't care about me, and I. Don't. Care. About. You." He closed his phone and switched it off.

_Tomorrow you'll be thinkin' to yourself_

_Yeah, where'd it all go wrong?_

_But the list goes on and on_

_An' truth be told, I miss you_

_An' truth be told, I'm lyin'_

_When you see my face…_

A year since Matt had dropped everything and moved to LA. He sat back in the soft chair, glancing around the dimly-lit coffee shop. He liked this place, he liked it a whole lot. He'd been coming here nearly everyday after work, with his laptop.

On this particular night, he felt an odd sensation, as if he was being watched. Matt opened one eye, and looked around the room. As his eyes passed the window, they settled on a leather clad blonde, who turned away and began to stalk swiftly down the sidewalk.

"No way…" Matt breathed. "No way in hell that was Mello…"

_Hope it gives you hell,_

_Hope it gives you hell._

_When you walk my way,_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell._

_If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well._

_Then he's a fool, you're just as well,_

_Hope it gives you hell._

Half of Matt never wanted to see Mello again, the half that blamed the other adolescent for all of his problems, the half that Matt answered to consciously.

His other half--the half that made him return to that coffee shop every night, in hopes of seeing the blonde-- wanted nothing more than to crawl back to his former best friend. This half only wanted his crying shoulder back.

Every time he went to his little coffee shop, he told himself it was just to get a mocha , get on his computer, and kill a few hours. It was not to _maybe_ see Mello again, nope. No way no how.

_Now you'll never see_

_What you've done to me_

_You can take back your memories_

_They're no good to me_

_And here's all your lies_

_You can look me in the eyes._

The bell on the coffee shop door tinkled as someone entered. Matt wouldn't have looked up, but the next sound he heard was a loud snap that sounded almost like... (_Chocolate, and, god, Matt knew immediately what it was_).

"Oh my god…" He murmured under his breath, looking up very slowly. Another teen, blonde, thin, and dressed totally in leather, was glaring at him. Matt was unable to read Mello's expression, but… He didn't look happy, or even angry…

_With that sad, sad look that you wear so well…_

_When you see my face_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell_

Before Matt could even react, Mello had crossed the small café to stand on the opposite side of Matt's table.

"Matt." The tone in the blonde's voice made Matt look up slowly, shifting uncomfortably.

_When you walk my way_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well_

_Then he's a fool, you're just as well,_

_Hope it gives you hell._

"Why've you been ignoring my calls, bitch?" Mello growled when Matt didn't say anything.

Matt heard the anger in his voice, but there was a desperate tone under it. This was it. He was begging to be taken back.

_When you see my face,_

_Hope it gives you hell_

_Hope it gives you hell._

Matt glared up at Mello, letting out a sigh that came out like a quiet growl. "You've finally tracked me down?' He asked, standing up, and closing his laptop.

_When you hear this song _

_And you sing along_

_You'll never tell._

_And you're the fool, I'm just as well,_

_Hope it gives you hell._

The redhead stepped around the blonde, and looked him over with a pitying glance.

"Matt, I'm... Please don't…" Mello scrambled to say.

_When you hear this song_

_I hope that it will give you hell…_

"Mello…" Matt murmured, looking into his best friend's eyes. He grinned cruelly. "Save it for someone who cares, bitch."

_When you sing along,_

_I hope that it puts you through hell._

Matt walked out of the coffee shop without another word, leaving Mello alone.

Just how Mello had left him when he'd left Whammy's house.


End file.
